


love was made for you and me

by archivisms



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Canon Era, Established Relationship, Fic Exchange, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, One Shot, at the very least there was an attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archivisms/pseuds/archivisms
Summary: A mission goes well.





	love was made for you and me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [preach_electric](https://archiveofourown.org/users/preach_electric/gifts).

> happy secret satan everyone but especially to my giftee

“I said to go the other way!” He gestured frantically, the movement almost comical with how his harms were bound to the chair. 

“Love, you said that the other way looked clear. I didn't know that you were going to run off that way. We were literally running as we passed it- I was ahead of you!” 

“Oh. Yeah, I should have figured.” 

“It’s alright dear,” Owen sighed. “It’s no use dwelling.”

Curt leaned his head as far back as it could go, resting it on Owen’s shoulder. If Owen could see Curt’s face, he’d bet that he was smiling that soft, besmitten smile that he reserved just for Owen. Just the thought made Owen himself grin slightly, though a part of that joy stemmed from the fact that the idiots that captured them were terrible knot-tiers.

"Come on dear," he said, as the ropes fell away around them, "Time to get going."

Curt groaned and stretched, rubbing absentmindedly at his wrists. "Some date." 

"We're spies, darling. This was a mission." Curt shrugged, grinned at Owen , then kicked down the door. 

The two slipped out into the corridor-- more cautiously than usual, they'd both been stripped of nearly all of their weaponry (the stuff that wasn't well-hidden at the very least) and didn't really want to chance it. As they moved down the corridor, Curt pulled a small knife. 

"Where was that hidden?" Owen asked, and Curt winked.

"You really wanna know?"

"Well now I don't." Owen's lip curled in disgust. He really didn't.

"I'm just fucking with you. it was under my lapel." Owen glared his very best death glare at him, but Curt just laughed. Somehow, Curt had gained immunity to his Glare Of Doom. It was very distressing. 

The two of them turned a corner, running headfirst into a squadron of guards. 

Four on two wasn’t really a fair fight, for said guards, and soon Owen and Curt both carried new guns, had left a trail of injured henchmen behind them, and were making their way out the door, important files in hand. 

All in all, the mission had been a resounding success, and they'd only been captured once! 

* * *

They made motions to lose any trails that might be tracing them , which was basically just an excuse for them to go on a nice long walk through the woods and to where their car was waiting for them. It really was such a nice day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Owen had a chance to spend some time alone with the man he loved. Also. mission success. That was good too.

“This happens too often,” said Curt, a little out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. The mission in Romania. The one in Hungary. When we went to Italy. That time we decided to go out on the town together in London and I saw that dog and got distracted and disappeared on you because I went to go pet it and forgot to tell you."

“You do wander off quite a bit, dear.”

“I do! I should probably get better at telling people where I’m going so I don’t just disappear on them.”

“Maybe you should get a shirt that says something like, ‘If lost return to Owen.’” 

“A bracelet, or a necklace,.” Curt mused, walking backwards. “‘Property of Owen Carvour. Obviously, it would be bedazzled.’” With that, Owen’s straight face broke, and he laughed.

“Stop. And turn around before you slam into a tree or trip over a rock and knock yourself out. I can and will leave you behind.”

“Aww,” Curt mock-pouted. “You’d never. You love me too much.“

Owen’s smile softened. “You’re right, as usual. I could never leave you in the dust.”

Curt slowed down, coming to walk beside him. Owen laced his fingers in Curt’s, utterly sure his face was bright red like a lovestruck schoolboy. It certainly wasn’t a  _ bad _ feeling, and it left Owen feeling warm and content as he leaned against Curt’s shoulder, cheek pressing against the fabric of his suit jacket.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the walk, simply enjoyed each other’s company.

* * *

The two of them had been holed up by Barb in what was, quite probably, the shittiest motel in the history of motels. Lucky Barb. She got to stay at a far nicer place.

To be fair to Barb, she stayed there for the whole mission, and the motel, apart from Barb, was partially their choice. Alone time was a rare commodity for them, and they’d take what little they could get, being secret agents who technically worked for different agencies. 

Pretty coincidentally, the two of them got paired up a lot when the CIA and MI6 worked together, or at the very least, when they needed interagency liaisons.

Owen was certainly a lucky guy.

“Shower first?” Owen murmured, but Curt just whined from where he laid on the bed, making grabby hands at Owen. He sighed, tugging his tie off easily, flinging it to the side.

“Fine, just this once,” The sleepy joy on Curt’s face made Owen feel as if his heart would burst. He sat down on the side of the bed, and Curt rolled over to greet him, wrapping his arms around Owen and pulling him to lay down beside him.

Curt pressed his face into Owen’s neck.

“You smell.”

“That’s why I wanted a shower,” said Owen, though he made no move to get back up.

“You can shower later. Cuddles now.” 

“Couldn't we cuddle uninterrupted if you let me shower now?” 

“Good point. Still not letting you get up.”

Owen let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and let himself relax into Curt’s arms. It was nice to be held. 

Specifically, it was nice to be held by Curt.


End file.
